<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the downside of saving the world by blahruto</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701870">the downside of saving the world</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahruto/pseuds/blahruto'>blahruto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Is Alive except Cas, Idiots in Love, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Until Cas is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 04:02:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahruto/pseuds/blahruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it’s his new routine. stumbling out of bed, showering, grabbing some toast and coffee, and telling himself out loud this isn’t hopeless.</p><p>“if we know anything by now, it’s that nothing is completely powerful. everything is fallible. it has a weakness, and we’re gonna find it.” sam tells him one day. dean repeats those words to himself whenever he starts doubting. </p><p>fake it til you make it, right? you gotta believe you’ll make it.</p><p>----</p><p>dean has to take a trip through castiel's memories to get him back.</p><p>a summary that is less professional: dean actually has to deal with his emotions, charlie is the cutest, sam is way too sam, and castiel and dean are very stupid. also, brokeback mountain is there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the downside of saving the world</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hiii. i wrote this for my gf and i so wasnt gonna post it but they rly liked it. spn and destiel are things that are extremely important to me. i've been pretty torn up about it ha. the finale was such a flaming trash heap  i wanted to try and fix it. idk. i hope this helps take a little of the sting out. i havent watched the show in years bc it got bad for my mental health so i hope my portrayal of the empty is close enough, but if not... </p><p>not like the writers care about being ooc, so who cares. we all in this circus. </p><p>i should say i did not watch the finale cuz i didn't want to risk ruining it if it was bad. my gf did and was pretty devastated. i am extremely sorry to anyone who had to see that. even hearing ab it was r o u g h. i really hope this helps at all. hang in there gays.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> end of the world’s been cancelled again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s... great. it’s great, really. everyone is back to where they’re supposed to be. celebration. </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost everyone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dean’s mind supplies unhelpfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>there’s the noise of beer bottles clinking, and for once they’re drinking to good news. there’s stories, and laughter, and the widest smiles in years. it’s great. sam is happy, he’s got his girl back-- she’ll do him some good. he deserves that. bobby, and jody, and charlie, claire, garth -- a rag-tag team and an unlikely win.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the bunker homes, for this moment, a cluster of people full to the brim of love. there’s a manic kind of joyous relief shared unanimously in this place. the disorientation of coming back from nothingness is strange to say the least, the first few times. he can’t fault it at all, really. the urge to celebrate. count your blessings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>maybe he’s just too used to it. the end of the world. you come back from it enough you get a nihilistic sense of invincibility. the dying wasn’t the problem, after all. it was stickin’ around afterwards. sure, maybe he’s in shock. maybe it’s normal, actually, to feel like there’s not really that much to celebrate. jack saved the world, yeah. that’s great. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean didn’t really save everyone. definitely didn’t save enough. he sits alone with a smile plastered on his face, ‘cause he’s good at that-- he’s good at putting on the face, even when there’s nothing behind it. he’s… he is relieved-- he is, but he ain’t here. he ain’t in this room, and he doesn’t feel what they do. he’s somewhere else, too, watching everything disappear. he can’t separate the two.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he looks down at his beer, thankful people aren’t paying attention to him. silently, he wills no one to notice him for the rest of the night. or at least, no one to ask anything from him.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>this should be the best day of his life.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>sammy’s alive, he’s happy--- got a life ahead of him. maybe that's the problem, though. life. for the first time, dean might grow old. maybe he should’ve noticed sooner, maybe it’s silly. he’s fourty fuckin’ years old, how didn’t he? it’s hard not to,now. he can see it, where time’s etched the lines in his brother's face. feel it in the way it hurts just a bit more when he wakes up, the way exhaustion feels a little more deep every time he lays back in bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean was raised to be a hunter. he’s seen the lives hunters live. no fuckin’ way was the thing that took him out gonna be age--- he’d go out violently, like he was supposed to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>there’s no room for love, for growing old in this life. it’s not on the table, so don’t try and put it there. you fight until the fight takes you. he’d been ready for that since he was a kid. was raised to, for sammy, or for any cause that’ll have him. now part of him was always gonna be waiting for that fight, for the next time the world ends. old dog, new tricks.  he wasn’t ready to have to live.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>getting to write his own story… feels too late. there’s too many people missing, people who earned this. to see the world saved, to feel freedom, to get the chance to build a life. those people aren’t here. dean is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>so what kind of story was he supposed to write? this ain’t the one he </span>
  <em>
    <span>planned</span>
  </em>
  <span> for. he never really thought it’d end-- the constant stream of evil, chaos, death, poison. the anger. the predictability of the world ending.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>whatever. it’s done, now. right? heave a sigh of relief. shrug the weight off, atlas. take a load off, it’s okay. it’s time for everyone to get to be happy, but dean? he feels… empty. the thing he always had to focus on is gone. there’s no more urgency, there’s no life or death ringing in the back of his head, burning the back of his heels, always needing him to be just a bit quicker, just a bit better. without it, he feels hollow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’s got a lot of his people here and that’s great. problem is, there’s people missing. there’s someone missing-- and he deserved this more than almost anyone. certainly more than dean.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean looks behind himself every now and then, just to see if</span>
  <em>
    <span> maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’s there. maybe this time. maybe if he just squints or tilts his head, he’ll be there. maybe if he turns around he’ll be there to startle him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he never is. new god, but no miracles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>what’s the matter? you don’t think you deserve to be saved?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean goes to the shelter impulsively one day, when he’s in need of a distraction.  maybe it’d keep his hands busy. he never thought about it until he was disappointed when </span>
  <em>
    <span>ironically</span>
  </em>
  <span>, miracle had an owner already. when he steps through the glass doors and moves towards the dog aisle, the first dog he sees has bright blue eyes. he turns on his heel and is out the door before he can think twice. he doesn’t even know why he does it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam sends him an article on ptsd. he doesn’t read it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>sam comes back to the bunker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean isn’t sure what he expected, honestly. it’s like he thought the second they were all free, he and eileen would have a picket fence ordered and on the way right off the bat, askin’ dean to be best man, or painting cradles. they aren’t rushing. they’re going on dates like normal people do when they got time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>a lotta the time, sam goes to her, but sometimes she comes to the bunker. dean’s happy for him. ecstatic, really. he sees it in how he looks at her, the way they laugh and fawn, the way sam’s vocabulary’s more “we” than “i”, now--- it’s everything dean’s always wished sam could have. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he tells himself he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because he knows he probably is. even if he can’t feel much else than sour, like he’s fighting off a fever and nausea and, well-- he blames that on the whiskey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you’re an old man now, winchester. who knows how long you gotta keep around? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>gotta go easy on this stuff.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s only been two and a half weeks but it feels like forever. maybe jack made days longer before he went all “hands off.” all he knows is dean can’t seem to sleep. all his dreams are nightmares.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’s restless, fidgeting half the day and drinking the rest. he convinces himself he’s giving people space to catch up, that he’s just being a supportive brother. after all, sam’s had his whole life to deal with dean, he’s earned some alone time with eileen. really, though, he’s avoiding talking. he’s avoiding thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>it’s something i know i can never have.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s fucked up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucked up, but it’s like the happier everyone else gets, the more it feels fake and the more it feels real and he doesn’t know which is worse. everyone else is getting ready for their lives, while dean’s just tryna pretend there’s more to the story. if he doesn’t accept it then nobody is really dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>so, he refuses to think about it. when his mind wanders and the thoughts come pouring in, he struggles more and more to drown them out. used to be that alcohol numbed it--- now he just gets migraines.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he can’t reason with it. fate, god, the fact everything was scripted and still ended up making no sense. he didn’t want to resent jack like he resented chuck. jack was part of what was left of cas, after all. jack saved them, just like cas. doesn’t matter. he’s pissed off and half-empty, angry that he believed for a second in a happy ending--- like those came for men like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s pointless that he would get the chance to write his story, just to have one of the most important characters written out. there’s no such thing as earning a happy ending, if not everyone who deserves one gets it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam notices, but he’s used to it. it’s not the first time dean’s mourned like this, deeper and deeper into a pit with no desire to climb back out. sam doesn’t say anything, and dean thinks maybe he won’t need an explanation. he’d pray for that to be the case, if he still prayed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>there’s no one out there to listen to him, anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he carries on with the drinking and the distractions, with leaving rooms when he’s not the only one in it, nodding, making excuses not to be around anyone. he walks in on eileen teaching sam something, and she takes his hand gently, and rests the other on his shoulder. when she looks at him, it’s too soft and for too long, full of too much meaning.  dean doesn't know why, but he feels sick to his stomach when he sees it. he spends the rest of the day hidden in the library.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>later that day sam finds him there. he’s only a little tipsy, and it’s 7pm. that’s an accomplishment-- he’s been pacing himself. he’s on the floor, knocking his boots together just to see them bounce off eachother. when he looks up, he sees his baby brother’s concerned face. dean doesn’t wanna see it.  they never quite meet eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hey… can we talk?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“depends what it’s about. what’s goin’ on, sammy? movin’ in with the missus?” dean struggles to stand up, balancing partially on the nearest wall-- he spills some bourbon on his jeans and curses. fuckin’</span>
  <em>
    <span> figures.</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s what he gets for not just downing it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“no, that’s not… it’s just, people are worried about you. and eileen’s worried you don’t like her, thinks you run off when you see her. are you… doing okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“just peachy. tell your girl i got nothing against her, man, just givin’ you space.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“right.” sam shifts his weight awkwardly between feet, looking around like he’s gonna find the right words to say written on the walls somewhere. “it’s just, you know. since… you’ve been kind of out of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“mm. probably all the porn. just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive</span>
  </em>
  <span> amounts of porn. haven’t had a day off in forever, gotta catch up, y’know? alright. good talk.” he attempts to move past him, clapping him halfheartedly on his shoulder. unfortunately for him, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoyingly compassionate skyscraper</span>
  </em>
  <span> he raised stopped him before he could get far.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i know you know you should talk about it. if you can. to someone, even if it isn’t me. we can get through it. we’ve… we’ve lost people before. we lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> before.” dean can’t control it, he winces. sam continues. “i wish it did, but grieving doesn’t bring people back. you gotta take care of yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>at once he feels the nausea run his blood cold. there’s a weakness in his knees pulling his body to the ground and his head to the ceiling. he vaguely remembers having a nasty flu as a kid that felt the same, where he passed out on the ground and was out like a light--- mostly remembers when john found him curled inward, four feet away from his gun. he had been so pissed off dean thought he’d  never forgive him. probably didn’t, now that he thinks about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you need to be on your A- game, dean. we can’t afford these kinds of screwups in this life.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it wasn't sam’s fault, he reminded himself. he didn’t know what happened--- didn’t even say his name. it’s still too much. he thought if he could just stay away from anyone who knew him, if he could just keep chugging forward, that it wouldn’t have to be felt. he knows he can’t do that. he can’t feel all of that again, not now. he couldn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he cried it out on that cold cement floor and left it there. figured-- save the world, first. then, the rest. when they actually managed it, he still couldn’t pick that grief back up. there’s nothing more to chug forward to, just an indiscernible, impossible amount of time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“sam. don’t.” he warns, managing to keep his voice from cracking with some effort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“don’t what? you haven’t --- you’re not eating, you don’t talk, you haven’t even said what happened. you gotta say it sometime, dean. you can’t do it alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i told you. he saved me.” he clenches his jaw to stop his eyes watering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah, but how? i mean… the empty, how’d he summon it? do you think we could figure out how to-- like, maybe we could get him b---.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“god damn it, sammy, shut up!” he steps forward threateningly and he feels bad-- because sam is trying to help. it’s just that that anger, the stuff that ain’t supposed to fuel him--- it’s all he’s got. anger is easier than grief, and it’s a replenishable resource. be mad at the world for this then hate himself for not being the person cas thought he was. “we’re just humans. </span>
  <em>
    <span>useless</span>
  </em>
  <span>, boring ass humans. we can’t do anything. can’t save…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“that’s not true, dean. seriously, what’s wrong with you? we did it. the world is safe. no one else is leaving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sam. just not him. you don’t think he deserves to be here?” the anger in him deflates, and he hates himself for it. all that rage, and he can’t even get through a conversation. sam looks so caring, and dean almost resents it. it’s--- too much. he doesn’t deserve it. he doesn't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>that-- to be cared about. not right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he has to look away. he goes to grab what’s left of that bourbon but sam doesn’t relent, just follows him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“dean.” he says it softly, in the quintessential sam way, and dean wants to recoil into his skin, to sink into the ground. “tell me what happened.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he clutches the bottle in his hand, his knuckles turning white. he wants to run away, or throw something, or punch someone-- find something to destroy to make him feel better but there’s nothing. he can’t move. “i told you. he’s gone, why’d you need more than that?” when dean does finally turn back to look at sam, there’s another strike of that sickening drop in his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“only because i know there’s more to it. you said he saved you and that he’s gone. you didn’t just say he died.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>shit. there’s the grief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“fine. it’s my fault. that what you wanna hear? he’s gone ‘cause of me. i just… stood there, fuckin’ useless. didn’t say a goddamn thing. i wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the guy. half the time he thought i didn't give a shit about him, and this fuckin’ idiot still had to give me the speech on how great i am before he fucked off. he’s gone and i just stood there and said </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"he said those things because he believed them, dean."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"yeah, well. stockholm syndrome's a bitch." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"okay, so shit was rocky, which of our relationships isn’t? you can't just---"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"can't WHAT, sammy? he died because of me. he gave up everything, everything for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of all people, and i stood there and took it all. i can never, ever make this right. none of this will ever be alright again. the world’s saved, that’s fuckin’ great, but i don’t care."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you can’t blame yourself. cas made his choice, so unless there’s something you’re just not telling me, i don’t get it. i don’t get the self hate, i mean, when we faced chuck… you almost, like, forgave yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean let out a ragged breath. he steadied himself to say it-- knew sam would never let it go. knew it’d get said eventually. he slides down the wall so he’s back on the ground. the cold floor keeps him steady.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“he took a deal for jack. empty’d get him if he was ever happy. he said he didn’t think he’d… said it wasn’t an option, bein’ happy. we got billie on our ass, two seconds from icing us both, chuck’s who knows where, and he breaks out this…” he trails off. “says it’s goodbye, that--- says he ...says he loves me. then he’s gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“so, wait. his happiness was… saving you? or telling you he--- oh.” they were both quiet for a long time after.  dean was crying again but he didn’t try to stop it this time. it felt inescapable. he was going to feel this for the rest of his life. this ache wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t dissipate, it’d settle itself in his bones and run through his veins til his clock stopped ticking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>eventually, his body ran outta juice and he went numb.  sam had, at some point, sat on the floor next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he doesn’t know where they come from, but the first words out of his mouth after that are “what a depressing fuckin’ thing to be happy about. that’s it? that’s the thing you got outta life? he shouldn’t be gone. not like that, man. not for-- not that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they were quiet for another good long time. sam stood up abruptly, clapped his hands together and said, “we’re gonna get him back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it took dean a minute to process what was said, and by that time he was gone, out of the room before he could say anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>guess it’s a pattern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>personally, dean didn’t believe it’d happen. something about this time felt different, felt worse. yeah, he wanted to-- wanted more than anything to let himself imagine there’s something they could do to get him back. it was just too much to hope for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>in his mind it was the dog all over again, a thousand times worse. at some point he needs to learn the lesson that keeps being shoved at him. he couldn’t watch this turn to dust in front of him. couldn’t see that future there for a second just so he could be let down again. it’s worse than that fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>phonecall</span>
  </em>
  <span>. you let yourself hope for even a second and you find yourself rushing to open that door.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>sam, though? he'd pretty much never seem him in such a flurry. anyone who might know anything, everyone who’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> known anything,  sam had them all on the case, had every corner and crevice covered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean felt useless. he followed every lead, double checked things, spent hours researching. he couldn’t shake his doubt. couldn’t help wonder, when would they give up? a year, two? when would everyone else throw in the towel, try and get back to normal? pretend they never even tried, move on because they </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> move on. when would he be the last one in this room combing for anything to go on? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>or, even if they found a way to get him back, could they? did he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve </span>
  </em>
  <span>something like that? what if cas is happier, and it’s selfish for dean to want him back? what if it’s not enough for him, here?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“dean.” sam snapped his fingers in front of his face. “hey. we’re getting there. i can feel it. just-- hold on. trust, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>this is your problem, dean. you have no faith</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean went back to his research-- another dead end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you should like think about what you’re gonna say to him when we find him.” are sam’s first words that morning, startling a half-asleep dean as he stumbles out of the library for coffee around five am. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“huh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“just...you're not exactly always good with words. i’ve been thinking, if he said what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said then you need to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. i mean i don't know, dean, at least let him down gently.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“we don’t even know that’s how he meant it. or if we’ll even be able to get him back.” dean tries to pour his coffee and completely misses the cup. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam rolled his eyes. “you’re an idiot. seriously, though. start thinking about it, and be nice. we’re getting close.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he didn’t spend much time thinking about what to say. it wasn’t real enough, yet, and what was he gonna do? bust in there with a speech loaded up, when cas might not even wanna come back?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>what if the empty’s better than whatever he’d get down here. if cas meant somethin’ else and there’s nothing down here worth coming back to, after all. he didn’t think twice about leaving it in the first place. didn’t even tell them he traded himself for jack. he was fine leaving them all those times, and the one time he wanted to stay dean kicked him to the curb. why would he want to come back to that? could just be that to cas, dean’s part in his life is over. he’s done changing and done with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>what if he doesn’t want to come back?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>there’s something else, but thing is, he never let himself think about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> john winchester was a strict drill sergeant and father alike. he gave out harsh rules and harsher punishments. dean was a good soldier, he followed them without question. knew not to get on the wrong side of his temper. don’t draw attention, don’t ask for too much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>take care of sammy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“it”</span>
  </em>
  <span> never came up--- none of his feelings did, let alone the ones he got for men.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>truthfully he doesn’t know how his dad would have reacted if he somehow figured out about it. best guess is, poorly. what he did know is he tolerated his interest in women, so he played them up. just easier that way, to perform this version of himself. less questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean was a master at compartmentalizing. he handled those impulses and urges like anything else that made him too soft to get his job done. he denied it, pushed it down, covered it in lashing out, in hard liquor, old rock and leather jackets. looked down at it how his father looked down on him. chose to just not think about it. every time he’d see someone, or feel something, he’d start the process over again, twice as intense, more and more and more until he convinced himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>eventually, when his mask started slipping, and he started feeling too much for cas, he hated himself for different reasons. dad was gone, and dean would die soon, if history’s anything to go by. worse, is it wasn't just men, anymore. wasn’t just good looking guys in bars giving him eyes, wasn’t just jokes and remarks, wasn’t just shower fantasies or dreams. that horrible, all consuming want he’d spent so long depriving himself had a face, now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he chose to hate himself because he felt that way about </span>
  <em>
    <span>cas</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>not because he’s a man, because that’s been there--- creeping up on him, trying to make him pay attention to it like a bitter ex. it unravels sooner or later. the denial is the smoke. it’s only there because of the fire.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>cas had sex hair, constantly chapped lips, a dorky outfit and the power to throw him up against walls. he also had too much good to know what to do with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas should’ve stayed untouchable, should’ve stayed away from him. dean had to get things messy, drag an angel out of the sky with his bare hands and poison him, like everyone he touches. dean watched uselessly while cas took everything for him, watched him give up everything time and time again for him, and  what did dean do to deserve that? he gave him scraps. lashed out at him. got him stuck human and threw him out. taught him how to kill yourself for everyone you love.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> as came back again and again. gave everything up again and again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i’m dead to you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i think it’s time i move on.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean didn’t think -- didn't ever really let himself wonder if cas felt the same about him. figured there was too much muddy water to wade through. too much has gone wrong. too many miscommunications, deaths,  betrayals and arguments, and just not enough good in dean to make up for it. he couldn’t ever be good enough to deserve that. couldn’t ever be righteous again, turn back into who cas thought deserved what he’d given.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i’ll find some way to redeem myself to you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>charlie comes over to help on the search sometimes, and dean finds himself hovering around her. he’s not even sure what she’s doing half of the time but her quick, rhythmic typing and clicking in the background help him focus on the words he’s reading. she doesn’t take a ton of breaks, only pausing to answer texts from who he assumes is her girlfriend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s like, 1pm, and words stop registering to dean, so he grabs her something to eat-- just some sandwiches and gummy worms. he cuts the bread into triangles, and slides the plate to her slowly. it feels good, for once--- he feels like a big brother, without all the baggage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>she smiles up at him and pauses her typing, gently pushing her computer away. she grabs the food, and digs in, turning her chair around to look at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“aww, i can’t believe you gave me a dessert with my meal. this is why you’re my right hand man.” she starts. “sooo. how’s my favourite oldest winchester?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean scoffs, and leans back in his chair. he doesn’t respond, so charlie presses on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“no, seriously. how are you? i mean… watching someone close to you go like that. are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘s not exactly the first time it’s happened.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yes, but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it took a moment, but dean realised what she meant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“sam told you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“whaaaat? no w-- okay, yes. i’m sorry. i’m the only one, though. i was being nosy, ‘cause i kinda already maybe thought cas was--- i’m so sorry, dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s fine. not exactly the first time someone died ‘cause they were close to me, either.” he blew out a breath, “it’s fuckin’ stupid. he’s gone an’ i still feel like i’m betrayin’ him, talkin’ about it. how do i know if he wanted everyone to know he’s got...shit taste in who to die for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i doubt he expected you to take it to your grave, babe. plus, i mean, i think he was only ever really hiding it from you. don’t take it personally, though, alright? it’s kind of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> gay people do. we try and be like, super careful about shooting our shot. i mean, not me that much ‘cause i’m like, straight up adorbs, but you know what i mean. it can’t be easy falling in love with someone you can't ever have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“that’s--- he just said he loves me, not that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> love with me. and who even knows what he meant by it. he’s.. was… an angel. the rest of them are dicks, so who knows if that even… means what it means to him like it does to us. ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...you’re kidding, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“but if he-- or even if he didn’t, y’know, why wouldn’t--- just. why wouldn’t he say nothin’? if he wasn’t happy. if he--- felt some sort’a, i don’t know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hmm… i guess he just wanted to be close to you, no matter what.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“makes no fuckin’ sense. if he---shit, man, if we can’t get him back…” he looks away. “he won’t’a been happy. what the fuck kind of sense does that make? ” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hey, hey. we’ll get him back, alright?” she grabs one of deans hands with both of hers and squeezes. “and, y’know. when we get him back, don’t stress, alright? cas will be okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s funny. you and sam think he’s-- that he, y’know. felt some way about me. just can’t wrap my head around it. i called him my brother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ah. okay, ouch. brother-zoned. but you didn’t know, it’s okay. he’ll be okay. he’s a good looking guy, we can find some dude to set him up with.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the blood rushes out of his face. thinking of cas with another guy-- with anyone, he shouldn’t feel like this. he doesn’t know how cas meant it, cas has every right to date whoever he wants, he isn’t obligated to dean just because he was unfortunate enough to be tasked with dragging him outta hell. he knows this, yet can’t stop the way his heart stutters. charlie’s smile fades as she watches dean’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“oh. oh, my god. you-- oh my god. i’m-- i’m so sorry, i -- aaaah.” she covers her face with her hands. “i mean i thought that maybe, but i just-- i thought it would’ve happened by now if-- i’m so sorry, holy shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s.. fine. just… no one else knows. congrats, i guess. you got it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“woah. so you haven’t--sam doesn’t even know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean shrugs. “he’s smart. if he does, it ain’t cause i told him. i never… didn’t think i’d live long enough to need to bother with, y’know. this shit. just-- wasn’t ever gonna do nothin’ with it, y’know? thoughts here and there, sure, but then onto the next town. figured if i wasn’t gonna settle down and get a wife, sure as hell wasn’t gonna try with a dude and deal with everythin’ everyone had to think about it. and my dad… dunno if he’d be pissed at the whole guy thing, or just that i took up his time lettin’ him know or bein’ different when i shoulda been busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you’re so smart and so stupid. you brother zoned a dude you want to bang? then you wonder why he never said anything? dean!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“what was i gonna say, charlie? hey, sorry i fucked your mojo up, but you maybe wanna fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> up, during the 9th fuckin’ apocalypse? c’mon.” he rolled his eyes and blew out a burst of air. “like i’m gonna just spring that on him. he didn’t need another excuse to fuck off and disappear on us. he just never got it, y’know? that he mattered to us. me, whatever. it didn’t feel good sayin’ it. i just… wanted to get through.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“okay, okay. well… i guess i get it. it’s actually kind of romantic, if you think about it. but in a romeo and juliet way where it’s like, romance, tragedy, or  stupidity? what a weird movie, honestly. straight people love is so weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i didn’t catch a friggin’ thing you just said.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>when cas said happiness was in the saying, dean can’t lie-- he thought it was a stupid sentiment. it felt out of place, way too sickeningly sweet to be in this crumbling reality. he chalked it up to a dying man’s manic delusion, right until feels just a little bit of the weight lift off him the second it slips out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’s not as good as cas, though--- he’s still a bit selfish. he wants the having, too. wants him back so he can at least say something this time around, even if it’s all that happens, if cas never wants to see him again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>just be alive, for fuck’s sake-- we can make do with that.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“god, okay, we so are getting cas back. i was already totally dedicated and now i’m like, jacked up to ten. we’re getting cas back, and then YOU are gonna kiss that beautiful boy, and maybe adopt some sort of dog, or a baby or something. ooh, you can name it after me! charlie sam, you’re named after the two bravest-- wait, no-- han solo!  it’s gender neutral.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“charlie.” he interrupts her rambling. not now. he can’t think of this right now. not until they get him back. he just needs to see him, and then he can deal with the rest of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“right, okay. slow down, got it. i’m really proud of you, dean. seriously. and i feel pretty honoured you told me. i won’t tell anyone, obvs, so you can, y’know. come to me if you wanna talk to someone who can kind of get it.  now, let’s get him back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>even after she goes back to her work, that’s why he found himself drawn to hover around her still. the idea that she kind of got it, that she knew and he didn’t need to explain anything. he knew sammy’d be fine with it, of course he would,  but telling him? he’s a good kid, but  who knows if </span>
</p><p>
  <span>it’d be a thing, if he’d look at him and feel pity, feel lied to, press for answers dean doesn't wanna give, yet. answers he doesn’t have yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you really think we can get him back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hell yeah i do!”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>what do you think he meant by it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wants to ask, but holds his tongue, and gets back to his books. he knows what she’ would have said anyway. he wouldn’t believe her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i love you guys.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i love you. i love all of you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i love you. goodbye, dean.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the first thing they try doesn’t work, but no one relents. everyone works harder and harder, believes more and more.  dean even finds himself trying optimism on for size. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s his new routine. stumbling out of bed, showering, grabbing some toast and coffee, and telling himself out loud this isn’t hopeless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“if we know anything by now, it’s that nothing is completely powerful. everything is fallible. it has a weakness, and we’re gonna find it.” sam tells him one day. dean repeats those words to himself whenever he starts doubting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>fake it til you make it, right? you gotta believe you’ll make it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it takes another month, three more attempts before they figure it out. they need anchors. things important to cas.  things he likes, things he touched.  they need to do it somewhere that means something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean hasn’t so much as thought about it before he’s already opened his mouth to say where to do the ritual. sam agrees. they drive out to that barn cas crash landed in all those years ago.p, and hope the drive wasn’t for nothing. hope this time around works.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it’s weird being back. the barn is musty, abandoned but so much the same. there’s worn sigils, broken lightbulbs and splintered wood-- a couple bullet casings and small bits of tan fabric. this is where they met.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean second guesses whether he made the right choice of location. who’s to say if this was good enough to form the connection.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>in any case, there’s no turning back now. sam carries a box full of stuff he hopes is enough. a hoodie he wore when he was human, a couple movies dean made him watch that he liked--- a cowboy hat and a fake fbi badge, something of jacks, of claire’s. a weapon cas used, and for good measure, he hoped-- some flowers and honey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it looks like the weirdest breakup box i’ve ever seen, but it feels like cas, doesn’t it?” sam asks. “uh… your, uh. your coat.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean furrows his eyebrows and carefully takes his coat, handprint up-- a reminder of first and last times they had, and sets it with the rest. he didn’t wear it much anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam and dean wordlessly begin the rituals, drawing the lines, preparing the ingredients. they entered a trance trying to get every detail right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it worked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> shadows become a figure. a familiar face steps from the darkness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“meg?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s a vessel, genius. of course it’d be you two, making all this racket. castiel seems to bring nothing but noise with him. does nobody honour deals anymore?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah, see, he made that deal. we didn’t.” dean replies, stonefaced. this part should be easy. he just has to distract it. get it angry, get it talking about him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the empty sneers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i don’t deal with humans. find your god, maybe he’ll trouble himself with your pathetic little impulses.” she looks directly at dean, and her face contorts cruelly. “don’t worry, i’ll take special care of your pet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“don’t talk about him that way.” he snaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“aw, it’s okay. castiel’s not here right now, it’s just between us girls. you don’t need to pretend you care about him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“oh, fuck off.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“did i hurt your feelings? so sad. at least it looks like you’re awake again. unlike castiel, of course. i remember last time i saw you-- you know, when your disposable little angel friend traded himself for you, you looked like a lost kid.  how depressing for dear cassie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you don't know shit about him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“quite the contrary. i know everything about him. by extension i know everything about you. we have to save dean winchester! pathetic. the righteous one, above heaven itself.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>sam interrupts her torment and starts laughing, the sound bouncing off the echoey barn and drawing her attention. the empty looks at him, now, cautious fury in her features. “what’s so funny?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>before he says anything else, thick white strands of  light creeps in and binds the empty’s new vessel, who crumples over and howls in agony. black goo sprays everywhere until it starts forming shapes. dean prepares himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “quick. now, dean. go!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>as soon as theres enough room to squeeze through dean hightails it into the void they opened. as he knew if would be, the pain is fierce and sudden. he struggles to stay upright. his skin feels stripped away, until he’s all nerves, like he’s being razed. he’s falling upwards and crackling with electricity-- but he adjusts, and it ebbs and flows through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he starts running, not sure which direction he’s headed. a particularly gruesome flash of agony sets him back and he stumbles, barely staying on his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>when his eyes open, he’s in the barn again. while the pain hasn’t dissipated, but it’s frustration that makes him almost cry. then he sees himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>this is the barn-- that’s true, but it’s younger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’s in a memory he shares-- but he’s seeing it through cas’s eyes. he watches it unfold. they both look so… new, and it’s strange. seeing this version of themselves, the ones before all those apocalypses. the worst hasn’t happened, and they aren’t close, yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>when it gets to the part where cas looks him in the eyes and asks “what’s the matter? you don’t think you deserve to be saved?” the light he was in-- everything, falls out under his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he falls until he lands somewhere else. he’s on a street corner, and he sees himself with his hand is around cas’s shoulder. his trenchcoat is askew, falling off his shoulder, his hair even more ruffled than normal. the two of them are laughing, and the fond expressions and that flicker of </span>
  <em>
    <span>thelma and louise</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his head, he watches them-- him and cas, together, at one of the many ends of the world. it was so long ago. dean still remembers how cas feels when he’s that close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it should’ve been that way this time, too. them at the end of the world. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>he falls again, and this time he’s almost prepared for it. this memory was strange. he’s in it, but he doesn’t remember cas being there. it’s nothing extraordinary-- he’s just raking leaves in what he recognizes as lisa’s yard. dean’s stomach flips and he aches. cas was watching over him-- must have thought he was happy. dean wonders if cas knows dean missed him back then. if cas knows he missed him every time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the next one he manages to stick the landing--- just to have the memory itself burn. dean isn’t in this one because he kicked him out. instead, cas is on the street, cold and tired and alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>there’s more flashes of memories. he’s in a lot of them and still doesn’f feel like he should be seeing these. cas’s many sacrifices, cas in purgatory and in hotel rooms, hearing and not hearing prayers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean’s in a white space, and it feels so far from earth he wonders if this is the empty, again, playing tricks on him. there’s whiteness sprawling out for eternity, disorienting and bright, contrasted by the ground, littered in bloody corpses that look like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you have to choose, castiel. it’s us or them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i won’t hurt dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>what broke the connection?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>more flashes of memories. dean loses count, and he hopes he’s not running out of time-- that he’s getting somewhere. him and castiel on a park bench,  waiting on a street corner, standing too closely, threatening a gas station employee for pie--- it goes on, and on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>hello, dean. hello, dean.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it comes, of course. he inevitably stumbles into the memory he dreads. the one that plays in his head when he closes his eyes. he sees cas tell him goodbye, sees himself flounder and say nothing. he can feel it. he’s closer, but hearing the words again pulls him apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“goodbye, dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean falls again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>when he sees cas, it feels like a dream. he freezes for a second. he wants so many things in that moment, feels so many things. he swallows and continues walking slowly to cas’s body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas is sitting cross legged, head tilted. his eyes are closed gently, as if he’s meditating. long eyelashes resting softly, eyebrows relaxed and shoulders relaxed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“cas.”  he breathes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>brilliant blue eyes snap open to meet his at once. his lips are parted and he looks as if he’s in a fog. when dean drops to the ground and cups the other man’s face, he’s met with scrunched eyebrows. he pulls him into a tight hug and </span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if there wasn’t a time limit on this thing he wouldn’t let go. he pulls back and runs his thumb over the line of cas’s jaw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s really you. right-- man, tell me you’re real. you’re in one piece? shit, man, it’s good to see you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“dean…?” castiel puts his hand on dean’s shoulder, still dazed, and shit it’s good to hear that voice. castiel is </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in front of him. he’s warm and still smells the same, and his chest moves as he breathes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>castiel’s eyes clear and fill with rage in a split second. “i made good on my deal. you got me at my happiest. since then i haven’t caused you any trouble, i’ve kept quiet. bringing dean into this is cruel and unnecessary.” castiel’s voice, both stern and broken, hits dean like a truck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“cas, it’s me.” he pleads. he looks behind him, nervously. this place reminds him too much of purgatory. there are no monsters lying in wait this time. the place was the monster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>castiel takes a few moments, looking dean up and down. cas was never really subtle about staring. from the intensity cas studies him, you’d swear he could easily tell if he was a clone by whether or not he had the right number of freckles. when he reaches the hunter’s eyes, he squints.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span> “dean.” cas breathes after a moment. his posture relaxes into him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“what are you doing here? how did you--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“can’t talk now, cas. we got a time limit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“a time… you’re risking your life again.” he realises. he looks behind them, too, suddenly alert and ready to fight if need be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah, well, you can be mad at me when we’re back on earth.” dean pulls cas up, takes his hand and just bolts in the direction he came from. he hopes to god or jack or whoever that he’s going the right way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it takes long enough dean starts to get antsy, but they reach it; the crack the brothers formed in the empty. dean pushes cas through first with a firm hand on his shoulder. he isn’t risking any slip ups this time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the two of them tumble through. the entryway was just as bad on the way out. cas lets out a shocked gasp of pain as he crash lands on the barn floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>near the crackling exit the empty is shaking, borrowed body almost glitching. as soon as they’re out sam furiously starts mumbling in latin, until the empty burns bright, and then turns gray-- fading into a peaceful slumber, the door dripping closed with an unsavoury </span>
  <em>
    <span>splorch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas is lying on the ground beside dean, who’s pretty worse for wear but has a grin on his face that isn’t leaving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“we did it.” dean repeats in a hysterical mantra, grinning and breathing heavily. “are you okay?” he asks, when he catches his breath. he shifts over to cas to help him up.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“my grace.” he says, simply. “it’s gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean gets a pit in his stomach.“fuck-- ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“we’re so sorry, cas, we just--- we couldn’t let you stay rotting there, man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i understand.” he dismisses, and it’s hard to tell how he feels--- he hasn’t looked anyone in the eye, yet. “i’d have done the same thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“let’s just get you home, alright?” sam looks sympathetically at them both, and extends his hands to pull them up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean casts a glance sideways to cas, but cas isn’t looking at him. he swallows nervously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>shiiiit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas was quiet on the way back to the bunker. sam explained most of what happened as dean struggled to pay attention to the road in between stealing looks into the back seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’s sat there with his hands resting politely on his lap and there’s a weird mixture of happiness and guilt lingering around dean. they make the call to their loved ones that cas is back, that they made it. dean can’t contain the joy in his voice. the phone is handed to claire, who demands fo talk to cas. they do for about half an hour. jody gets tempted to try the drive out then and there, but they know there’ll be time for catching up later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the ride there feels like a million years, but they make it safely. dean vibrates with excitement and anxiety. he has too much to say and doesn’t know how to say any of it. he wants to be alone with cas now that they can talk but he’s dreading it at the same time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i’ll, uh… leave you two to catch up. night, dean, night cas.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas nods in response, and they listen until his footsteps get too quiet to hear. they look at eachother and there’s tension in the air, now. no one knows what to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>when you said you loved me, what did you mean?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>how could you say that and then leave?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>never do that again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>what’s that thing you thought you could never have?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>never do that again. never do that again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>do you hate me for bringing you back and losing your grace? do you change your mind that i’m selfless now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you hungry?” dean asks instead, because it’s easier that way. he puts a gentle hand on cas. “i can make you somethin’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“thank you, dean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>things don’t change much at first.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>friends come over to rejoice and it finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> feels good to celebrate. dean joins them and it’s so much more rewarding to say you won when everyone’s there. cas isn’t extremely chatty, but he never really has been. dean hopes it might just be him adjusting to being human. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they don’t talk about what cas told him. cas doesn’t bring it up and dean can’t bring himself to ask. if the dude doesn’t want to think about it, who’s he to make him? he probably meant it in a way that didn’t need to be talked about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas is the same as he ever was, really, with the exception of being human now. dean still isn’t any better at knowing what he’s thinking. it’s great in a lot of ways. he and cas hang out, sam joins them, occasionally someone comes over.  it’s this level of domestic and distanced at the same time. it’s just like always. dean finds excuses to be near him, fixes his tie, smiles when cas wakes up with with bedhead and shuffles half-awake around the bunker. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>the only thing that’s really wrong is it’s hard for him not to notice cas doesn’t smile the same. when cas said his goodbye, he smiled like he never had before. dean’s never really been mr.sunshine either, he gets it-- but now that he knows what it looks like when he is, it’s haunting that he isn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>everyday he tries to do something to make him happy, make him look that free again. cas always looks appreciative, but he never looks the same as he did when he said goodbye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it leaves a sour taste in dean’s mouth. he freed him, and he’s happy about that. it’s just that it looks like he didn’t want to be freed. was he this selfish? did he fuck it up that badly? it’s like he couldn’t stop messing it up for cas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“stop it.” cas demands out of nowhere. dean furrows his brows, looking around confused. it was around nine am, all dean had done so far is just put on a pot of coffee. he was still in sweatpants and an old t-shirt that’s just a bit too short to be worn outside. he’s pretty sure he hasn't done anything yet to get yelled at. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“huh, what’d i do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you’re thinking negatively about yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“wh-- thought your juice was gone. how do you even know shit like that?” he flusters. “you got no proof. mighta just been thinking of like, war, or like, what’s up with russia?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i know you.” he states. “russia is not a concern of yours.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me.” he mumbles. instead of addressing cas’s confused face, dean pours him a cup of coffee. their fingers graze eachother’s as he hands it off and it’s pathetic, really, that it sends a shiver up his spine. he’s fourty fuckin’ years old-- he’s not some virginal college girl with a crush on a quarterback.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “i could be concerned about russia.” he defends weakly. cas examines him closely, inches away from him. he always gets a little foggy when cas is this close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i’m…” he looks away. “just wanted to say i’m sorry you got stuck human ‘cause of me. and that i kinda went tramplin’ through your memories to get you here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the angel tilts his head. “i’m not angry. i told you, i would've done the same.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it was kinda selfish.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it was the opposite. i… admit i was frustrated you put yourself at risk. that doesn’t make it selfish. you and sam weren’t even aware this could happen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“don’t, cas. really. you don’t gotta comfort me.” he insists. “just-- sorry. ‘s all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“it’s not an attempt at comforting you. i find that truth rarely comforts. i’m merely stating that you didn't need to do this, dean. i didn’t expect it. you've done enough for me, for everyone. you didn’t need to do any more. it's done, already, but you have to know-- you deserve some sort of happy ending."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“fine, then that’s what this is. happy ending, or whatever you wanna call it. nothin’ else is worth a damn. you gotta be here for it too. mine ain’t gonna come if yours don’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas gives a little smile, and dean wants to feel proud, but he just feels lousy. he still doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy and he can’t figure out why.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i… am thankful to have you as my family.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>neither of them bring up castiel’s goodbye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>charlie is the only one who knows everything, so she naturally won’t let it go. at first she tries subtlety and giving him space, but soon enough resorts to outright demanding to speak privately with him, that it’s her ‘responsibility.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i can’t believe you haven’t said anything yet. like, holy shit, dean. quite literally holy. just slide him a piece of paper with ‘do you like me? yes or no’ on it or something, already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean crosses his arms defensively and scoffs. “he hasn’t brought it up either. maybe he just doesn't wanna talk about it. it probably wasn’t even meant like that. not his fault if i took it wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“dean, i love you, and you’re way too smart to be this stupid. people don’t make deathbed confessions that they want to be super best friends with someone. see how i just said i love you, and didn’t make it a whole big thing? that’s how </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> say they love eachother.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“he’s an angel.” he counters, like that’s a good enough argument.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“uh huh, and i dated a fairy. if he loves you enough to die on the cross for you, i doubt he’s incapable of feeling or understanding romantic love. you just have no self esteem. and, by the way, none of your answers have been ‘i don’t want to talk about it because i don't feel the same.’ don’t give me your bitchface. he put his cards on the table already so </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> are the one who needs to bring it up. otherwise, you’re rejecting him, even if you don’t wanna say it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he opens his mouth to say something and closes it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“that’s right, that’s what we call a mic drop, bitches.” she gloats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>when he gets back cas is staring at the television sadly. he’s where he always sits for movie night, dishevelled clothes and ruffled hair. seeing him so… here, so human. dean’s heart races.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“cas? you okay, man?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“that movie was not very happy.” he says blankly, looking towards dean. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“what movi--” he glances closer at the tv. “dude, did you watch brokeback mountain?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“the ending was very unfortunate. do you know it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah, man, it’s not a happy flick. thats kinda the point of it. ‘m sorry you watched that. we can find a better one.” he sits beside cas, only then realising he has no idea how to actually comfort like this. pat his shoulder? hug him? kiss the top of his head? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“the point of it is to be upsetting? i don’t think i understand that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah, me either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean doesn't bring it up that night. it just doesn’t feel like the time. it’s not like it’s much different if it’s this day or the next. instead, he picks out movies he thinks cas will like and they sit too closely together on the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they get through two of them. cas’s mood is better by the end of it, after they mentally rewrite shanghai noon together, attempting at first to take out some of the racism and ending up with owen wilson and jackie chan’s characters becoming crime solving husbands. he’s human now, though, and nods off ten minutes into the third movie they choose. dean grabs a blanket and pillow for him, tucks him in and turns the tv off.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’ll bring it up tomorrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam is off somewhere with eileen, so it’s just dean and cas in the bunker. the two of them spent a good chunk of daylight with shopping-- cas needed clothes, after all. he’s a winchester now so he tries on some flannel and leather. it looks good, but it doesn’t look like him. they end up buying more of the same. button ups and trenchcoats, some sweats and loose t shirts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>a store clerk gives cas the eyes pretty unabashedly, though he’s too preoccupied to notice. he can’t really blame her. cas is definitely something to look at, and she doesn’t even know the half of it. dean wraps an arm around his shoulder for what he insists are unrelated reasons and feels a smug sense of satisfaction when cas relaxes into him. she watches the movement, looking a little irritated. he’s dean, and he’s a bastard, so he winks at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the store clerk flusters and looks away. yeah, cas ain’t his, and he’s got no claim over him. people ogle and flirt with him all the time, it’s normal. he doesn’t really have the right to get in the way of that. he shouldn’t be tryna keep him for himself when it’s not like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>at least he can say he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> the opposite. he’s tried being supportive. he’s been overly supportive if anything, pushing him towards any girl who gives out a vibe, giving him tips. even talking for him. it never worked out. cas always ended up confused and frustrated. dean always ended up feeling like shit. he’s got no idea what the right answer is. might as well have fun with it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>now they just needed to stock up on snacks for movies. he insists on finding what kinds of food cas likes other than pb&amp;j and even picks up some veggies when cas shows interest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they head back when the sun is going down and set up  for a movie marathon--- blankets, pillows, comfortable clothes. it’s the human experience, after all, dean might as well put effort into making it suck a little less. dean picks a few different genres and finds himself entirely more interested in castiel’s reactions to them than anything. he loved showing cas things-- it never failed to be entertaining. his intense focus and quiet commentary, the way he looked to dean when there were plot twists, how he leaned forward when things got tense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>cas</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so endearing, and dean couldn’t tear his eyes away or make himself care about missing out on plot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“thank you, dean.” cas says when the movie ends. dean looks at him confused. “today was nice. i’m glad to get to watch these with you. you are much more adept at choosing movies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>there’s several moments dean thinks about bringing it up, about saying his piece. the problem is it’s good like this-- sitting next to cas and watching him. it isn't perfect though, because cas still doesn’t look his most happy. it would hurt something awful if cas decided to leave them because dean couldn’t shut his mouth up and it’d hurt just as bad if he knew cas didn’t get to be happy again. charlie thinks he might be happier if they talk about it, but if she’s wrong…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they’re bringing their dishes into the kitchen to be washed later, about to settle in for the night in their respective bedrooms when dean stops for a second. before he can think himself out of it, he clears his throat. cas looks at him and, well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>this is it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“when you--- before you died. do you remember what you said, at all?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“of course, dean.” castiel stills, becoming almost statuesque. he swallows distinctly, eyes flitting to find something else to look at. he’d been dreading this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean nods and continues. “‘cause, y’know. you were gone before i could say anythin’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“what did--  what did you mean? when you said all that. what’s it-- ‘cause i don’t know. i don’t get it, y’know? why somethin’ like that would make you happy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i felt i was very clear.” castiel’s looking away from him, focusing instead on a spot on the floor behind dean at his side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“when you said that stuff. you just--- you said it to me, not sam or anyone else. i don't know what that means.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas looks at him mournfully but stays resolute. “yes. dean, i am... sorry if it made you uncomfortable. i hope you know i am well aware of what our relationship is to you. i by no means intend to convince you of anything. but i won’t take what i said back, even if that means you’d like me to leave.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“wha-- cas, that ain’t what i meant. at all. i don’t want you goin’ anywhere.” he flusters. “i’m tryna-- i’m tryna understand what you meant, what you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i appreciate your friendship, dean. i don’t expect any more from you than that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”i know you don’t. you never expect anythin’. can’t blame you when i let you down so many times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i made my choice.” he maintains, brows furrowed.  “i made my choice long ago, my friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i know! that’s part o’ the problem. you shouldn’t have done it, man. you say your piece and then you’re just--- gone, again.” cas is looking at him more confused than ever at the tone shift. dean can’t help it, the despair just seeps back in.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you don't get to monologue and just leave us. that ain't fair. you gotta wait for people to respond, you know? like--  if you're gonna be going on and, telling people what you feel or--- whatever, you can't just leave after. that's not--- man, what am i supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> with that if you're gone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"i apologise if it felt like i left you, dean. i knew your answer, and… i knew what had to be done.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be.” dean is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it: of watching castiel do this to himself-- sacrifice himself and disappear. he loves him but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, this merry go round of death they’ve been stuck on. always just being a little too late, missing eachother every other rotation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“there wasn’t any reason to let both of us die. i trusted if anyone could fix this, it’d be you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i didn’t even fix anythin’. jack did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you were essential in success. i won’t regret my decision.” he smiles, a staunch look on his face while he talks. “i wanted it to be like this. you earned this, dean. i’m glad i got to see it, of course, but even if i hadn’t, you deserve</span>
  <em>
    <span> this</span>
  </em>
  <span> life. to be free and happy. ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“and you don't?" he demands. “that’s bullshit. you gotta know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"it… was never an option.” he looks down and away, backing up slightly. “i told you what my happiness is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"no, you didn’t. not really. you told me you couldn't have it but you never </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked</span>
  </em>
  <span> for it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"i would never ask that.” he insists. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“yeah. alright, okay. you say all that shit about me but you can’t even</span>
  <em>
    <span> talk</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me. yeah, i’m a great fuckin’ guy. you can’t even tell me you’re miserable unless you’re dying an’ don’t have to deal with me after.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i thought you were upset i told you. now you’d prefer i ask for a life with you?”  castiel snaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the change is sudden, like a switch flipped. less innocent, more powerful. he’s now advancing on dean, who holds his place out of stubbornness. cas’s eyes are dark and intense, an incredulous glint in them. “one you can’t give, cannot </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> give me. you’d prefer i ask the impossible of you, put that on your shoulders, rather than be a little unhappy? i was--” he looks away, losing steam now. “i was content to live with my memories.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><span>“that ain’t livin’, cas, and it ain’t fair.</span> <span>you deserve this just as much as anyone else. you keep tryna take these bullets  an’ you still don’t get it. you’re not some fuckin’ pawn. i musta really fucked with your head if you don’t see that by now. if you think i can just-- no. it can’t end like that. it’s with you or nothin’.” dean moves closer without realising it, until they’re too close to really justify. the anger has fizzled out. now there’s just silence as everything sinks in. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i don’t,” he starts, eyes wide. he licks his lips subconsciously. castiel’s eyes flit to dean’s lips for the tiniest moment, then back up.  “i don’t think you understand. you don’t know what you’re saying to me right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i don’t understand it? alright, so help me. what am i sayin’ then, cas?” he challenges. </span>
  <em>
    <span>c’mon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>give me a sign this ain't all in my head right now. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“you’re… promising things you don’t understand. things you don’t possibly mean. don’t do this, dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he doesn’t really get it until that moment, that cas was anticipating rejection, the same rejection that’s made dean tiptoe around assuming, made him gaslight himself all these years when things got too intimate, when one of them was too close or honest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas thought this was where dean was gonna tell him he’s just a brother to him, that it just isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like that</span>
  </em>
  <span> with them. that it’s just him, has been just him this whole time. nothing dean’s said has come out or gone in cas’s head the right way because cas isn’t listening for a confession, he’s listening for the end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he doesn’t know how to say it and make cas hear it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the realisation comes and he can’t help it, he surges forward and does what he’s wanted to do for the last decade-- he takes the lapels of that trenchcoat and pulls him forward, their lips finally, finally meeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he’s done a lotta things with a lotta people but nothing ever felt close to this. he’s never needed it like this, like making cas feel his need. show him he’s here, he’s not gonna let go. he’s not good with words, never has been, but maybe he can still tell him what he needs to know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>there’s a moment castiel is too surprised by the suddenness to react. when he responds it’s frenzied and rough, his hands flying to dean’s collar, pulling him in closer before pushing him away with a gasp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean pulls away, sees cas even closer than normal. long eyelashes, eyes bright blue with his pupils blown out, swollen pink lips. cas is looking at him like he doesn’t believe it’s real, like he’s in awe. he doesn’t go back in yet, afraid for a second he was wrong after all, that cas might push him away for good this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>luckily cas doesn’t let him worry for too long: brings him back in with a vengeance, pushing him against the wall, one hand on the back of his head and the other playing at the hem of his shirt like he isn’t sure if he’s gonna take it off or rest it there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean’s thought about this for a long time-- way too fuckin long, dreamed about it, fantasized about it. never thought it’d ever happen, and it’s almost too much to take in. his head clouds with just</span>
  <em>
    <span> cas</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just want, just more of this. there’s no room for anything else and no need for it. he doesn’t even bother trying to gain the upper hand while they kiss, he relents to cas easily. he can’t believe all of the wasted time where they could’ve done this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>it gets hot and heavy quickly, and it’s a real good thing they’re alone in the bunker right now. they’ve wanted this too long and too intensely to hold back now. dean finds himself uncharacteristically needy, frantically grabbing at cas’s clothes. he can’t even think straight enough to feel embarrassed. all dean wants is more, his thoughts a constant stream of </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, cas. closer. gotta be closer</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>whatever bit of clarity they have left over convinces them to stumble into dean’s bedroom clumsily, kicking the door shut behind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>by no means is dean an inexperienced man, but under castiel’s touch it all feels so different, so much stronger. he leans into every touch, desperate and overdue. cas responds back just as strongly, like he’s needed this just as long, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they really should have done this sooner. like, ten fuckin’ years sooner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he needs to make cas feel it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it-- can’t let him walk away from this unsure. words clearly weren’t his strong suit, so there had to be something else his tongue was good for. he needed to unravel cas, just make him </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it felt like cas was trying to do the same to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas pulls away for a second to deal with his tie and dean whines, following his lips. “fuck, cas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>cas doesn’t have the volume dean does, but he growls into dean’s ear, his eyes dark and demanding. when cas holds him it’s assertive, commanding-- he’s not wasting time trying to be too gentle.  cas pulls dean’s head back by his hair delicately just to kiss and bite at his neck. dean pushes him back a bit, and relishes in the surprised noise cas makes when he drops to his knees in front of him and hooks his fingers in the belt loops of his pants. he looks up at him through his eyelashes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>god is busy, a guy needs something else to worship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<ol>
<li>
<span> so </span><em><span>that’s</span></em><span> what they mean by a religious experience. </span>
</li>
</ol><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean wakes up with his head nestled under cas’s chin, an arm draped around his waist. it’s comfortable, and it hits him he didn’t have any nightmares-- he can’t even remember the last time he slept like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the steady hum of his breathing almost lulls him back to sleep, but he can tell without looking that cas is awake too. he deliberates for a second what he should say, because they never technically said the right words. they’d been tiptoeing around this for so long, he’s not sure what needs to be said. cas’s nose is pressed into dean’s shoulder blades. he rolls over to face him, resenting the loss of cas’s arm around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hello, dean.” cas utters, his voice low and raw with sleep. he could definitely get used to that. it shouldn’t be allowed to look like this, sound like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> when they’ve got stuff to talk about, things to do. his judgement gets overshadowed when cas’s eyes drift to dean’s mouth. the bed’s got an anchor tied to him. they should talk, yeah, but he doesn’t wanna move from this moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“mornin’.” it comes out more flirtatiously than he intends. the heat of cas draws him in; it isn’t long before he finds himself on top of him, his hands roaming. he loses himself in it-- the feeling of his stubble, the little noises he pries out of him, how he clutches at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he hopes cas doesn’t mind when he sees the hickies forming on his neck, marking him in a way that’s probably too gratifying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they finally make it out of bed, dean watching cas as he leaves the room, boxer shorts hanging loosely on his frame. life feels different... lighter. the rest of the weight he’d been carrying all this time stripped off with his clothes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they brush their teeth and dean makes them breakfast. it feels so comfortable they forget they should probably finish yesterday’s conversation. they attempt to do the dishes together, but dean can't keep his hands to himself-- ends up with a soaked henley and knocking over one of sam’s mugs when he gets a bit eager. it’s not really his fault. cas put on a button up, to wear </span>
  <em>
    <span>casually---</span>
  </em>
  <span> a couple buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. it’s not like dean could be expected to focus after that. the mug doesn’t break, so dean’s got his arms around cas the second he sets it down again.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“uh… hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>the two of them disentangle from eachother as quick as they can, turning to see sam standing awkwardly in the door to the kitchen holding a bag of groceries. he looks bewildered, and cas looks like a deer in the headlights. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“heya, sammy.” dean grins wolfishly.  sam already saw, there’s no point in facade.  dean is way too happy to give a fuck about manners right now. “what’d you get?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“so...we’re just gonna glaze over that?” he asks incredulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean looks at cas, who seems to be waiting for a cue from dean, then back at sam. “ah, shit. do i need to give you the birds and the bees talk again? you see, when a man and another man who are both just</span>
  <em>
    <span> extremely </span>
  </em>
  <span>handsome love eachother very much, there’s a very special hug---”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“alright, alright, i get the picture. shut up and help me put these away.” he groans, screwing up his face at his brother. “they were out of milk, someone’s gonna have to check again in a couple days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“dean and i bought milk.” cas interjects cheerfully. “we were watching movies after brokeback mountain proved disappointing.” he added, explaining nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam looks to dean for clarification. “you showed him brokeback? didn’t that movie make you cry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“pfft. no way. made </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> cry, more like. nah, he found it himself. we got milk and snacks for a movie marathon to get the taste outta his mouth.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>sam nods and looks between them both sternly. “hey, seriously, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>past first bases in public spaces, you know the rules.” he says, pointing at cas’s neck. dean smirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“wow, so just because we’re two men---,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“shut up.” sam busts into laughter. “asshole. you’re so annoying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“well if those are the rules it’s awful good you walked in when ya did.” he quips, moving his eyebrows suggestively and sliding an arm around cas’s shoulders, resting his hand in cas’s hair. sam groans and tosses a package of pasta at dean.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“wow, okay, hate crimed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they put the rest of the groceries away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>sam’s still sam, so he says a quick congratulations to them both and a “good luck” to cas before he leaves the room. dean turns to cas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hey.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“hello, dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean shuffles awkwardly, knocks his foot behind him nervously.“i just-- y’know. i ain’t always good at showin’ it, but i, uh, y’know. i love you. i just figured i should… actually say it.” he throws his arms open freely, looks him in the eyes decisively. “so here’s your formal invitation, man. if you want...you can have it. this.” he offers, and steps a bit closer, gesturing between the two of them. “that life you talked about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>castiel smiles in a way that lights the room up. it feels like dean is soaring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i’d like it more than anything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“good. me too.” he grins. “you’re stuck with me now.” he jokes, winking. cas laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“i look forward to it.” he says softly, and kisses dean again, holding him like he was the most precious and beloved thing there was. in his arms, he very nearly felt like he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they settle on calling eachother husband, even when it’s just started. nothing else feels just right. they’re in this thing for good, anyways. they head back to that shelter to adopt a dog and see the same blue eyed mutt as before. they waste no time getting her home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>dean tells his friends with no shame or grief, a carefree arm around cas’s shoulder and a grin on his face. it’s less coming out and more bragging. a couple people cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>everything clicks into place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>when life on earth is eventually over for dean and castiel, they arrive in a heaven handcrafted by jack. their life together continues there anew,  and while it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> without a doubt happy, it never truly ends. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CASSIE GOT THAT BASTARD BOTTOM DEAN<br/>(BOOTS WITH THE FUR, WITH THE FUR)</p><p>ok but seriously i hope you liked this / it helped. sorry about my awkward ass sex scene. i really hope this helps you feel better about the nastyman's bad ending.</p><p>i hope it wasn't too bad. i super duper appreciate comments (i have not written in a super long time so go easy on me if possible?) i save all comments to look at when im sad and this year has no shortage of sadness lol. hope y'all are doing okay.</p><p> </p><p>EDIT: thank u all fr the nice comments i just wanna say i do intend on editing this at some point and fixing it up but there was a loss in my family that kinda derailed that plan for a bit, so ill def update it when i can with the edited version, hopefully it isnt too hard to read rn haha</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>